Ever had a taste of gumbo ya ya? If you want to experience that ya ya, just ask a south Louisianan what makes a good gumbo. Debates ensue whether smoked sausage, chicken, or seafood should be included, or what color the roux should be: dark chocolate brown, peanut-butter gold or pale blond. As for garlic in gumbo, it's a given in one parish (or county) though it will raise the eyebrow of another cook a few miles away. Eventually, it all bubbles over into, yep, one big gumbo ya ya (translation: "everyone talking at once"). "You can make the stew out of anything that crawls on its belly or flies overhead," says Marcelle Bienvenu, native of St. Martinville, La., cookbook author and food writer for more than 30 years. Bienvenu grew up in the heart of Acadiana (often referred to as Cajun country) believing everyone enjoyed gumbo, jambalaya, boudin, crawfish bisque and stewed okra. It was only after she moved away briefly as a young woman that she discovered other cooks bought rice in a box, and "people didn't eat like I did growing up." Cajun cuisine has long been associated with rural roots or "the cuisine of making do," says Bienvenu. (Creole cooking is considered its more urban sophisticated cousin.) Many early Acadians were farmers, so cooking based on corn, rice, chicken and pigs was a natural. Along with the abundant wildlife of the bayous and wetlands where they lived, the Cajuns also found ways to utilize rabbits, turtles, shellfish and ducks in their cooking.
One of the dishes inspired by all this bounty turned out to be the rich savory stew called gumbo. Today it's often considered the quintessential dish of Louisiana. It consists primarily of stock, meat or shellfish, a thickener, and the "holy trinity" of vegetables: celery, bell peppers and onion. Although a Creole gumbo sometimes includes tomatoes, Cajun gumbo never does.
The subject of thickeners for gumbo is always confusing, says Bienvenu. While some gumbos use okra as a thickener, others use filé (pronounced FEE-lay) powder (dried leaves of sassafras trees). In Cajun country, however, most folks pass a small bottle of the filé powder at the table instead of adding it to the pot, which allows folks to add it according to their own personal taste. If okra is used as a thickener, filé is never added, says Beinvenu, or it would cause the stew to become gummy and stringy.
On the other hand, roux (a cooked mixture of flour and fat used as a base for many Southern sauces and gravies), can be added to either, and in fact is quite common as the sole thickening agent for gumbo itself.
"Making roux was and still is serious business in this part of the country," says Bienvenu. "I've often said to my brother: You could die on the floor, and if Mama was making roux, she wouldn't stop stirring."
How to make roux
Stirring is the key. Roux must be stirred constantly to prevent it from burning. If it is burnt, you'll have to throw it out and start over. (Ah, yes. I learned from experience that this is true.)
To make roux, Bienvenu uses a heavy cast-iron pan. ("All-Clad works too, but never use a nonstick pan," she says.) Pour in the oil; vegetable oil works fine. When hot, add the flour, whisking to incorporate it. Then begin stirring (she uses a wooden spoon with a flat edge on the bottom) until the mixture reaches the desired color. Generally, paler-colored roux is for seafood gumbo while darker-colored roux is for stronger flavors such as duck or sausage.
Regardless of the desired hue, "Don't try to rush it," says Bienvenu.
"Generally, my mama cooked hers for about 25 to 30 minutes, or, like she said, long enough for her to have two cocktails."
Then the onions, peppers and celery are stirred into the mixture and cooked another 10 minutes before adding the warm broth, and finally the rest of the ingredients.
The traditional way to serve gumbo is to ladle it over rice, although occasionally restaurants serve the rice on the side. Another Cajun thing to do, says Bienvenu, is to put a baked sweet potato in the bowl and ladle the gumbo over it.
Unless it's a seafood gumbo. "Daddy would insist the gumbo be ladled over a scoop of potato salad," said Bienvenu.
Donna Tabbert Long is a Minneapolis writer.